A life in the day of our Republic

The Special Cell invited news channels to broadcast the alleged confession on 20th December 2001, by Mohammad Afzal, co-accused, narrating the contours of the conspiracy to attack Parliament. This trial by media was arranged by the Special Cell. It implicated and condemned all the accused including Geelani, even before the judicial process had commenced. During the trial, the defence witness, Shams Tahir Khan, a correspondent with Aaj Tak, deposed before the POTA Court that when Afzal was telling the media that Geelani had no role or knowledge of the conspiracy, he, (Afzal) had been sternly rebuked by Special Cell ACP Rajbir Singh, and told to refrain from mentioning Geelani’s innocence. Having failed to muzzle Afzal, the Special Cell Police then ‘requested’ journalists present to edit Afzal’s confession and censor the sentences exonerating Geelani. All news channels complied, thereby effectively silencing Afzal and Geelani and deliberately suppressing a crucial piece of evidence. On the 100th day after the attack, Aaj Tak telecast the unedited version of Afzal’s statement, which supported Geelani’s claim of innocence. (Reported in 2003(3)JCC 1669 see para 113)

The Special Cell presented cellphone records and intercepted conversations to the Court as crucial evidence. Geelani’s phone records only enumerated phone numbers, and contained no records of conversations.The POTA Court interpreted these mute records as evidence against Geelani. Relying on conjecture rather than proof, it assumed that he had carried out conversations relating to the conspiracy.

However, the alleged intercepted conversation between Geelani and his brother Shah Faisal in Kashmiri, was never transcribed by the Special Cell. A poor translation of a noisy phone conversation cast a shadow on Geelani’s fate. Repeated requests by Geelani to the Judge to play the alleged interception in open Court, to have it transcribed and translated by a competent person, fell on deaf ears. Transcriptions and translations presented by defence witnesses to give clarity to the highly indistinct prosecution evidence were rejected by the POTA Judge as evidence tendered by ‘‘interested witnesses’’.

In December 2002, three days before the judgment, the Supreme Court permitted Zee to telecast 13 December — a film avowedly based on the Special Cell’s charge sheet. This film went beyond the prosecution case and portrayed Geelani as the mastermind of the attack, a charge without a shred of evidence. The nationwide telecasting of concoctions about a trial that was still incomplete was a blatant violation of legal norms. Overriding the appeals of defence lawyers, the Supreme Court championed the cause of free speech and allowed a partisan bugle to play the Special Cell’s tune.

On 18th December 2002, just before the sentencing, Geelani sought permission to talk to the Press. The Judge ignored this, and proceeded to sentence Geelani, Shaukat and Afzal to death. Geelani’s lawyers reiterated his request. There was still no response, and as jingoistic cries against the condemned filled the court-room, the Judge retreated to his chamber. With great difficulty Geelani finally managed to communicate his thoughts about Indian justice and democracy before being whisked away.

The death row in Tihar Jail drew an iron curtain of silence around Geelani. In September 2002, an attack had already been made on his life in prison. No substantial steps to ensure his personal safety were taken despite his expressed apprehensions to the POTA Court and the NHRC. Realising that a grave injustice was about to be committed, the All India Defence Committee for S A R Geelani was formed by academicians and activists under the aegis of Dr Rajni Kothari. An exhibition entitled Lies of Our Times was organised to unmask the truth behind the Parliament attack case. When this exhibition was sought to be displayed in Delhi University, student outfits of the Sangh Parivar and others attacked the venues and prevented Geelani’s viewpoint from being heard by the academic fraternity to which he belonged. The police failed to provide protection to the organisers. In this instance, the freedom of speech did not matter. After Geelani’s acquittal by the Delhi High Court, attempts to gag him continued.

In JNU, the ABVP tried to disrupt a meeting where he was due to speak. The president of the ABVP in JNU told a news channel that regardless of the acquittal order, Geelani had no right to speak, as they considered him guilty of the Parliament attack.Have the opponents of Article 370 also suspended Article 19 (1) (a) that guarantees every citizen the freedom of speech and expression? The murderous attack on Geelani’s life on February 8 was a desperate attempt to silence him.

Ironically, it is now the Delhi Police that is impatient to hear Geelani’s statement. Having survived five bullets, Geelani needed a few days to make a statement. His words, however, are not music to police ears — he has stated that he suspects the attack was engineered at the behest of the Special Cell, Delhi. It is significant that he has been attacked precisely when the Supreme Court is hearing appeals in the Parliament attack case, including the appeal filed by the Delhi Police against his acquittal. The attack is clearly an attempt to short circuit the judicial process and overawe the judicial verdict.

Police ‘encounters’ have become routine in many parts of India and security forces and the police have begun to display scant respect for law. Regular violations of the law and democratic rights by the very forces that are employed to protect the Indian Constitution are overlooked, we are told, for the greater good of the nation. Police impunity has been institutionalised. Even the judiciary has, in many cases, been found wanting on this count. The investigation into the attempted murder of Geelani is a matter of national concern.

The writer is an advocate and human rights lawyer